


until the world capsized in shallow waves

by ifllamascouldfly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Temporary Character Death, Codependency, Coping, Feels, Gen, Metaphors, Past Character Death, Season/Series 06 Spoilers, Season/Series 08 Spoilers, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:23:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1599746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifllamascouldfly/pseuds/ifllamascouldfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-and we were tossed overboard.</p>
<p>When Sam was gone, Dean was nothing. When Dean was gone, Sam was nothing. </p>
<p>Also, grass is green, and the sky is blue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	until the world capsized in shallow waves

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolutely no idea where this came from. I'm supposed to be studying. What am I even doing.

 

When Sam was gone- _gone_ , because ‘dead’ would imply heaven, would imply peace- Dean was nothing.

 

He was trembling fingers that felt too empty without a brother’s shoulder to clasp and hand a beer to on a starry night.

 

He was a leather jacket that was too stiff with no head resting on it when they crashed on the side of a road.

 

He was a beast of a car with a passenger seat too cold and empty after years of steady reassurance during long drives.

 

He was laughter lines too faint with no nerdy books to snatch away and replace with skin mags just to see lips twist into a pinched glare.

 

He was green eyes too dull with no spark of a smile at a little brother snuffling in his sleep.

 

He was dusty boots too heavy, too small, with no soft, almost-silent footsteps following.

 

He was faded blue jeans with a hole in a knee, too dark in the rain he stood alone in, crying.

 

He was a mouth too dry, with a nightmare-scream battered throat closed up around too long sips of liquor.

 

He was empty smiles and vapid assurances and blank stares and arms wrapped around Lisa and Ben, wishing they were a too-big little brother.

 

Without Sam, Dean was lost.

 

*

 

When Dean was gone- _gone_ , because ‘dead’ would imply surety, would imply closure- Sam was nothing.

 

He was trembling fingers that ached to wrap around a cold beer, knuckles brushing against his brother’s.

 

He was plaid shirts stretched too tight around the shoulders because they were meant to fit a smaller man who was too brave.

 

He was a beast of a car with a driver’s seat he didn’t belong in and a dog that broke the rule nobody was around to enforce anymore.

 

He was dimples too rarely seen, with no bright teeth-bared grin, laughing at a big brother nodding his head along to a pop song after a long night.

 

He was blue-green gray-brown eyes too dull with no smile at a big brother running a hand through fever-slicked hair.

 

He was dusty boots too heavy, too big, with no clumping footsteps to follow without thought.

 

He was new blue jeans with no holes in them yet, bought with the winnings of a too long ago match of pool against familiar hands that had patched him up his entire life.

 

He was a mouth too dry, with a nightmare-scream battered throat closed up around secrets he ran from.

 

He was empty smiles and vapid assurances and blank stares and arms wrapped around Amelia and Riot, wishing they were a too-little big brother.

 

Without Dean, Sam was lost.

 

*

 

When Sam came back, _really_ came back, wasn’t just a shell of the man (the little boy) he’d raised and loved, Dean hugged him.

 

*

 

When Dean came back, _really_ came back, wasn’t just a cold and cruel figment of his too-shattered imagination, Sam hugged him.

 

*

 

Dean’s fingers stopped trembling.

 

Sam’s dimples kissed his cheeks.

 

Dean’s eyes sparkled with life.

 

Sam’s lips curved into a smile.

 

*

 

Dean wasn’t lost.

 

*

  
Sam wasn’t either.


End file.
